Making Music out of Nothing

Make nothing of it, he says, and he means like I do,
as he makes nothing of my stories of shameless love
or shameful regret. No need to fill the gaps, gaps are good as they are, 
empty of. If I fill them with reasons, they won’t be gaps anymore, 
and what can that do for my reasons? nothing.
Reasons are what they are, even if you don’t know anything
of them. Make something of the reasons you don’t know. 
Make nothing of the gap you don’t understand. The gap 
which opened under your feet as you walked towards me
when I called your name. By the time you had found the gap 
I was already thinking of my reasons. Don’t make something 
of it, mind. That could open a new gap which will need some 
filling with more reasons. I’m tired of reasons I don’t have. 
I’m tired of the reasons I do have also. Make nothing of 
my tired reasons. I’ll revive them when the time comes. 
In the meantime, while I make something of myself, 
you can think of something to say. You know you’ll regret it 
once you say something, so make nothing of your regret, 
just as I make nothing of your shame. Your regret 
makes nothing of me, and that I do make something of, 
that is a shame. Not my shame, just a shame. Your shame, 
well I don’t even know what to make of it. 
I had hoped you have none. When I loved you I loved your 
shamelessness. I have no use for your regret, 
specially when the reasons are here. I love it best 
when you make nothing of yourself when my reasons come up for air, 
at the end of every winter, and sometimes in the middle, 
when it gets really cold. Maybe my reasons love winter, 
I don’t really know much about them.
I have no use for your love when the reasons are here, though, 
I think I’ve said that. My reasons fill my gaps quite well, 
and your gaps, well, you fill with them as best you can.
And always remember, specially during the gaps: 
There is no need to make something of things such as this.